وماءٍ قَديمٍ عَهدُهُ ما يُرى بِهِ

سِوى الطَير قَد باكَرنَ وِردَ المُغَلِّسِ

With water ancient, oft unseen but by

The birds who morning draught earliest supply,

وَرَدتُ بِأَفراسٍ عِتاقٍ وَفِتيَةٍ

فَوارِطَ في أَعجازِ لَيلٍ مُعَسعِسِ

Thither I rode mounted on steeds spare and fleet,

While night's last gleamings in backs dim repeat.